Resident Evil Origins
by Daitsuke-kun
Summary: It all starts when Jill comes to the S.T.A.R.S... So, who is Jill Valentine?.. What dark secret does she keep? And most importantly - how is she involved with Wesker?...Working title. Rated T for language and possible future context.
1. Poor, poor Joseph

Chapter I.

Poor, poor Joseph.

It was a usual day at the S.T.A.R.S. office. Well, if you can call the work of a special police unit member usual, that's it. Chris Redfield was working on some case about the murder on Madison street, yawning silently and stretching his arms time to time. He was bored to death – all words and letters were jumping in his eyes like mad, teasingly changing into various bad expressions. It really pissed him, so Chris just put the file away and leaned on his desk, closing his eyes. Those ordinary days in S.T.A.R.S. really were boring. Extremely boring. He knew that several minutes later Joseph will storm into the office, shouting "Pizza, anyone!?", then Barry will chuckle and say "One pepperoni pizza to me, please!", then Richard Aiken from BRAVO will run in and ask: "Who said 'Pizza time!'?!" After that Wesker will say in his usual monotone voice politely as ever: "Can you both please shut the fuck up thank you for listening, Joseph will spat "You welcome" and sit on the desk, fixing his legendary red bandana. It was the original scenario of life of the S.T.A.R.S.

Well, he was right. Partly.

Yes, Joseph stormed in as usual, but instead of yelling about pizza, he stopped in the middle of their little office, panting and rolling his eyes, and then blurted out breathlessly:

- Guess what!???

Chris lifted his eyes and looked at Frost in slight shock.

- What? No pizza?.. Or you just wanted to say that after our last order there's no pepperoni left?..

Joseph shook his head, rolling his eyes even more.

- Then what? An earthquake? A storm? Your girlfriend dropped you?..

Joseph devilishly looked at Chris.

- Oh no Redfield. My private life is my private life, but even if my girlfriend dropped me, it meant that I at least had a girlfriend. Be jealous, Redfield, the only girl that you have in your life is your sister.

- Maybe I don't need a girl?.. – replied Chris coolly.

Joseph jumped, crashing into his desk.

- What!? Don't tell me you're a g…

- No, that's not what I meant! I meant that I just haven't yet met a girl that I would fall in love with. – said Redfield, throwing an ash tray at him. If Joseph wouldn't have caught it in the last moment, he surely would be without any brains left by now.

- Hey, Redfield, you know that throwing things in your friends isn't good?.. And it proves my theory that you just need a girlfriend!..

- Okay, okay, so Joseph, what were you about to tell?..

Joseph snickered.

- Changing the subject, Redfield?.. Well, whatever. Anyway, I was about to tell you something extremely exciting!..

- What is it, Frost? A new number of Playboy is already for sale?.. – teased Richard, glancing into their office.

- Shut up, Aiken, you're too young for reading that kind of journals. Everybody knows you have the X-Men comics hidden in your table. – Richard's cheeks flushed and he disappeared, planning his revenge.

Joseph snorted and continued:

- So, I was about to tell you that…

- Frost! Where is the report about the Robinson case?.. – asked Wesker dryly, lifting his head from the papers and eyeing Joseph murderously. Frost slammed his forehead with his palm and yelled:

- On shit, I totally forgot! Cap, can I write it tomorrow!?

- Frost, Irons will burn you alive if you won't give the report on this case to him today! And he's going to curtail your salary as well as mines too!

Joseph cursed under his breath and started his computer on. Then he began to type the report with an incredible speed, cursing time to time when he made a mistake.

Wesker returned to his work.

- Joseph, if there will be more than seven mistakes in one sentence I'll blow your brains with my favorite "Deserted Eagle" – commented Wesker, not looking at Frost. Joseph became pale and frantically started to search for any mistakes in his document. After he checked it nearly five times he looked at Wesker in vain and asked:

- Captain, I, um… How do you write "report" – "raport" or "report"?..

Wesker grunted and murderously stared at Frost. Poor Joseph squeaked and nearly drooped under the table, his only desire now to become as smaller as possible.

Chris sighted and returned to work.

But something wasn't right.

Wait. Irons already had that report about the Robinson's case. Barry had already written it.

Why the hell then Wesker wanted Joseph to write it again!?.. He forgot? Or he just didn't want him to tell them that "extremely exciting" thing?.. But why? And what was Joseph about to tell?.. Surely something important if Wesker was so intent on shutting him up. Damn it, Chris Redfield was dying from curiosity.

And Wesker was one son-of-a-bitch.


	2. The news

Chapter II

The news.

Chris was heading home from work. He was tired… No, even not tired. He was totally exhausted. You could place a stamp on his forehead: 'totally expired, battery's doomed', and he wouldn't mind because it was absolutely true.

It was 9:00 P.M. Usually Chris got home, watched TV, eating something, and then went to bed. But today he didn't even feel like watching TV – he just wanted to get home already.

While waiting for the green light to flash, Chris automatically switched on the radio. He lazily pushed several buttons, searching for some interesting stations, until a loud and clear voice erupted from the dynamic. It was a news wave. Yeah. _Just his luck as ever, _Chris thought, his expression quite irritated.

And now the criminal news. The police of Chicago finally caught the famous thief, Dick Valentine, whom they were tracking for already five years. Finally, the dream of the Chicago Police Department is fully accomplished. That's what the chief of the C.P.D., Oscar Clark, said: "_Dick Valentine was a big catch; although he, maybe, isn't the thieves' leader, but he caused more trouble than any leader ever did. The Chicago citizens can now breathe with more liberty than before, when they'll be sure that their homes are safe and their stuff is under the reliable protection of the law". _Oscar didn't tell us about the exact circumstances of Dick's catch, but I think soon we'll get more information about this case. And now the sports news…"

Chris turned the radio off and the car soaked in silence. _Different people, different stories, different paths. You never know where your path ends, or where are all the rocks and how to avoid them. You just need to go as it goes, assume your life with all its twists and turns, unexpected holes and falls. _Chris never was much philosophical – as a matter of a fact, he never was a philosopher – but that thought just pumped into his mind after that message on the radio about that thief. Parking his car, he turned off the engine and just sat there, in the cooling car for several minutes, a little bit startled by the emptiness in his head.

Suddenly, his sell phone rang. Chris looked at the display and grunted – it was Wesker.

- Yeah?.. – he answered rather sharply.

- Christopher, I need you to do me a favor. A very important favor.

Chris's features lit up. If Wesker was going to say that tomorrow they're having a mission…It was too long since they had something interesting. Mostly that month they had only paperwork, and for Chris (as he was quite an adventurous person) it was truly a torture.

- Yeah, cap, what is it?..

- Don't be late.

The line went dead. Chris put the phone away and cursed.

And he just called because of that!?..

Sometimes he just couldn't understand their captain. And every day he felt the gap between the team and Wesker widen more and more – and Chris just couldn't understand him. He was younger than their captain, but the difference wasn't really big. It was hard to say what Wesker liked to do and what hated – he was totally unreadable, like a machine or something. And the sunglasses that he constantly wore closed his eyes, making Chris's tries to understand them only tries.

When Chris entered the S.T.A.R.S. office, it was unusually loud inside. Wesker was absent, and at Joseph's table were practically all men from the S.T.A.R.S. BRAVO and ALPHA – Kenneth Sullivan, Joseph Frost, Forest Speyer, Kevin Rhyman, Brad Vickers, Richard Aiken, Enrico Marini and Edward Dewey. Fortunately, Barry wasn't in present too, or they all simply wouldn't get out – the office was too small for such a lot of cops.

Chris found it impossible to get to his desk with that much people in the room, so he just crossed his arms and asked:

- Hey, guys, why are you all here?.. Is something wrong with your office?.. Or you all are waiting for Wesker to sing to him "twinkle twinkle little Wesker"?..

Joseph waved to him with such energy, that accidentally hit Brad with all his might. Vickers yelped, rubbing his head, but decided not to complain – besides, he would have to shout to be heard, so Brad decided to play a shy little boy.

- Chris! Hey, Chris! Come here, I have something to tell you!

Redfield chuckled.

- I guess it's something you wanted to tell me yesterday?..

- Well, as a matter of a fact yes. But Wesker told me to write that report that was already written by Barry, by the way…

Chris got closer to Joseph, stepping on Brad's foot and pushing the others away so he could hear at least something. Brad squeaked, but again decided not to complain. Chris didn't even notice.

- Oh, so that's why captain is not at his usual place. You got the poor man, and he jumped out of the window because you asked him how to write the word "maniac" – with a "c" or a "k" on the end – for like twenty times?..

- It's not my fault that my grammar teacher at school was a cute young girl and had a nice ass. – said Joseph coolly. Chris lifted his brows.

- I knew you were a pervert, but I had no idea for how long.

- Since kindergarten! – blurted Kenneth, pointing his finger up in a "I-know everything-on-Earth" manner. Joseph eyed him maliciously, playfully punching Sullivan's shoulder.

- What? I just say because I know you since we were kids. Remember that Stacy girl, you were always so intent on lifting her skirt up. – Kenneth said teasingly.

Joseph made an offended face.

- No way I wasn't! Besides, her name was Lucy! How can you remember!? We were four!..

Kenneth grinned.

- I just have a good memory.

- Well then, I know how we can fix it… No witnesses! – Joseph emphatically looked at his fist with an unknown tenderness, and Kenneth suddenly remembered he forgot to write some report about the case solved a week ago and stormed out of the office, mumbling something.

Chris glanced at Joseph.

- What's it with him?.. – he said, waving his head at the direction of the entrance. Frost shrugged.

- I don't have any idea. PMS, maybe?..

- He's a man, you moron!

- Really?.. Oops. My mistake. If he tells his mom, I'm screwed! "Mommy, Joe wanted to punch me, and than he said that I'm a girl! Kill him, or I'll cut my veins in the bathroom while listening to Marlin Manson!" – parodied Joseph, laughing. Chris and the other laughed too, grinning widely – Joseph was a tease as ever. He always was the life of every party, that's why everybody adored him. His red bandana was legendary through the whole R.P.D., and rumors said that if Joseph dies, the Ghost of the Red Bandana would haunt the Department.

- So, what were you about to tell me?..

Joseph immediately put a serious look on his face, silencing. The others wickedly looked at Chris, smirking. They already knew that "something exciting" Joseph wanted to tell him yesterday, and they liked it that he still wasn't enlightened unlike them. They eyed him like they were all aristocrats and he was some sort of a plebeian.

- Okay, it's time to spill the beans. What is it?.. Brad lays eggs?.. Barry's beard is a fake? Wesker is cosplaying Neo?.. Irons is a pop-star?..

Joseph smiled mysteriously.

- Chris, Chris, Chris... – he shook his head, patting him on his forhead like a caring nurse would pat the patient to calm him. – Much, much better. A lot more better. Although I wouldn't mind taking a few pictures of Irons in the club singing. – he grinned. – But no. As a matter of a fact we have a new recruit. And most importantly – _she's a girl._

- So, she would be the only girl in the team?.. - Chris didn't know why he asked that - maybe because his experience with girls never went further "excuse-me-what-time-is-it-7-30-thank-you-bye". Redfield wasn't shy. He just was happy the way he was - with his favorite guns and rifls, his sister safe at college and his team like a big family.

Joseph smiled like a predator, awaiting for his pray, his red bandana seeming to redden even more.

- Exactly.

* * *

**I think there's quite a lot of Joseph in theese two chapters xD I don't know why I write so, I just... Well... Write O_o Or smth like that. So, this is my 2nd chapter. Review please! B)  
And still there's no romance.... Will be! I promise! When I have inspiration... xD**


	3. The Newcomer

Chapter III

Chris felt pretty much annoyed with all that crap around their new recruit. He let an irritated sight and went to his desk, deciding to work for a while. After all, he was a police cop, a member of Special Tactics and Rescue Service, and sometimes he had to pretend, at least pretend he was doing something, or Wesker would have already kicked him out of the team. And it wouldn't help that he is one of his "best men", as Wesker said himself about Chris.

Suddenly Barry rushed in *which was quite dramatic because he was a big man by all means*, and Chris suddenly realized that he was falling down to the floor, millions of bells ringing in his head.

- Oh, Chris, I'm sorry, really, I didn't mean to… Shut up everyone, they're coming!

But Chris didn't hear Barry – he fell to the floor, no, he was practically thrown to the floor, hitting it hard with his jaw and also feeling pain in his leg. The world turned upside down. Yeah, just his luck as ever, his unique Chris Redfield luck, that nobody else had.

Chris saw Wesker's boots coming in his view and someone's other boots – high military boots they all wore, but they were smaller and narrower. _Great. I guess I'm making the best impression ever on the new recruit. Perfect._

- Where's Chris?.. – Wesker's cool, unemotional voice could be heard. _Is he a what, a Skywalker that he can't see what's under his feet!? _Chris's thoughts were sarcastic as ever, and he wanted to stand up, but his head hurt so terribly, and he could feel blood on his upper lip.

- I think your best marksman is lying on the floor pretending to be quite a decent carpet. – Chris heard the new recruit's laughing voice, and he thought that the world wasn't in such a deep shit after all, if such voices still existed on Earth. It wasn't angelic, not even a bit, but it was perfect in its own special way – it was melodic but tough, and you could say that the girl it belonged to was as solid as she sounded.

Chris didn't see Wesker's face, but he could imagine how captain's jaw tightened.

- Yes, I guess it really is Chris. He's quite good at making good impressions, as you already can see. Remarkable person. – Wesker's voice was dripping with sarcasm, but Chris wasn't offended – he knew his captain for already like several months, and was familiar with his manner of talking to people.

Somebody kneeled beside him, and suddenly he saw a beautiful face coming in his view – deep blue eyes, shoulder-length brown hair and a kind, a little bit ironic smile. He laid there, on the floor, in the most stupid position ever, gazing in her nearly mirroring eyes, and thought that he was something in the eternity, apart from the whole universe, from Wesker, S.T.A.R.S., BRAVO, even himself and Claire. It was just him and her, and their eyes locked together, and…

Okay there, floor boy, I think it's time to get up no matter how much you love this adorable filthy floor. – she stood up, offering him his hand. Still feeling a little dizzy from the falling he shakily stood up, looking at his captain, that in his eyes blurry divided into to Weskers. His heart in his chest throbbed in horror– he thought that one Wesker was enough, and two Weskers… Were more than enough.

- Hey, it's okay now. You can let go off my arm. – the new recruit smiled at him, but suddenly she frowned. – I don't like the look of your mouth. Do you know that your lower lip is bleeding?.. And I have a strong suspicion that your jaw is wounded as well. Come on, let's escort you to the hospital wing!

Chris looked at her with confusion.

- As a matter of a fact, we don't have a hospital wing…

- What!? – exclaimed the newbie. – In Delta we had one, it was necessary with our intensive work and training… maybe someday I'll show you the nasty scar that I got in one battle… - she shrugged and Chris could swear he saw her cheeks flush a little.

- I wish I could see her scar right now… - whispered Joseph to Vickers, and got a punch in the ribs from Forrest. – Joseph, try to seem normal and non-perverted for at least five minutes! – Speyer furiously whispered in his ear. When Wesker murderously eyed them, he flashed him an innocent smiled, kicking Joseph in the ribs again; poor Joseph made a choking sound, bending, gasping for air.

Chris looked at the new recruit with amusement. He heard about Delta, and he knew that they didn't take just somebody.

- Wow, I guess you have pretty much of a battle experience. – he let out, leaning on her shoulder. His leg hurted like hell, and he was disgusted of the constant feeling of blood in his mouth. He hated feeling himself weak, but he knew if he let go off her arm, he would surely fall again.

- Okay, then you should see a medic.

Chris let a sight.

- We don't have a medic.

The new recruit grinned.

- Some member of S.T.A.R.S. you make, not knowing about another newbie of your team. – she smirked, tucking the lock of her hair behind her ear. – Oh, besides, my name is Jill. Jill Valentine.

Chris clumsily waved his head and nearly fell because the world started to spin and twirl.

- Now let's go show you to the new medic. – said Jill, escorting him to the exit. Barry smirked in his beard. Joseph gazed at the pair, a hint of jealousy clearly seen in his gray eyes.

- Lucky bastard… - whispered Frost. Wesker heard him and looked at him coolly and as unemotionally as ever, his face steady and unreadable.

- Now back to work, everyone. – said Wesker and everyone went to their desks, everybody's thoughts wandering about Jill and Chris.

And if they only knew that Wesker wasn't as unemotional as ever deep down in his soul…

Oh, he wasn't…

And surely his thoughts weren't about Redfield…


	4. The truth to be told

Chapter IV.

It sure was a stupid idea.

Jill Valentine knew it was more than just a stupid idea. It was the stupidest idea ever, but it just was there, in her head, bothering and exciting her.

Jill Valentine felt herself like a naïve schoolgirl thinking about such ideas.

And her idea was to create a singing band.

"Come on, inner voice, I am like what, sixteen!? I'm a grown women, serious and responsible, and I'm thinking about creating a band!?"

"Oh, come on, Jilly, it's not something YOU don't want! You've always dreamed about it!"

Jill always tried to be honest with herself, that's why shutting her inner voice up was as useless as trying to make a lion become a vegetarian.

"Well, ok, I want, you win, but it won't go further than just words!"

"Of course, if you won't tell someone, it won't. Come on, tell Chris! He's your best friend after all!"

Jill sighted. It was already two months since she was in S.T.A.R.S., and she and Chris became best friends. Jill never had a best friend before – with her profession… After all, had been a thief, and thief's number one rule: never believe, never fear, never ask. It was hard of getting rid of her old habits.

And besides, she had one technical problem.

- Jill, Wesker's calling. He's in Iron's office. – yelled Speyer to her, not tearing his eyes from the computer screen. He was playing Counter Strike Online with Barry, Joseph and Richard, and it was far more interesting than everything else for him now.

Knowing that it was useless to ask Speyer about the details because he was really into the game, Jill sighted and went directly as she was told – to chief Irons's office. The worst place on Earth, by the way, not counting school, but luckily she was already out of the number one hell on earth several years ago.

- Got out of one hole and into another. – murmured Jill sarcastically, going up the stairs.

When she entered the door that lead to Irons's office, she didn't see the owner of the office anywhere. It was only Wesker inside, surprisingly sitting on the table like Joseph. Well, maybe the captain was unreadable, but he sure adopted some of the habits his comrades did, maybe even without knowing it himself.

- Jill. – he said coolly, nodding his head and offering her to seat down. Jill closed the dooк and decided to stay standing. That way she wouldn't feel herself much of a pray. She knew Wesker.

Watching her closely, he smirked, but said nothing. He knew Jill Valentine, and he knew her pretty much.

- So, Jill, you know what your work is, right?..- said Wesker, reading some file on the desk. Jill shrugged.

- You know that I know, then why ask?.. – she spat back, resting her hands on her chest.

- Just in case. Anyways, just remember – I'm here to cover you, you're here to cover me. Have you contacted Birkin?.. – he asked suddenly out of nowhere. But Jill wasn't taken aback or confused. She knew Wesker's style of talking to people, and was pretty much used to it.

- Yes, I did. He says that everything should be ready soon. Don't you trust him?.. – Jill stepped closer to Wesker and sat on the desk next to him. Wesker pursed his lips, crisping his fingers.

- Indeed we are. But we are not partners. You are my partner, Jill.

- Do you trust _me_ then?..

Wesker intently looked at her, his expression unreadable as always.

- I'd say you are quite useful. An ex-thief, good with guns, good battling skills… - he said thoughtfully. – But we'll see soon enough and know for sure. After a little… Experiment. – he smiled thinly. Jill eyed him darkly.

- Umbrella has to put really a lot of money on my check after that experiment…

- If you live. – corrected Wesker.

- We're partners. You cover me, I cover you. So I'll live. – she grinned. - Besides, Umbrella wouldn't want to loose such a valuable employee as me.

Wesker stretched his arm and caressed Jill's cheek with his hand, feeling her soft cool skin under his fingers.

- And why do you think that?.. – he asked quietly, looking directly in her eyes. She eyed him for a minute or so, and then stood up, his hand dropping from her cheek on the table.

- You wouldn't want Umbrella take some money from your check for my death, Wesker. – she suddenly quickly rushed to him, took off his sunglasses and placed them on herself, revealing Wesker's cold icy grey-blue eyes with some specks of gold flickering inside them like fire time to time. He couldn't react fast and was somewhat pissed by her action.

- Come on, Wesker, we both know each other for already like what?.. Five years?.. You don't trust anyone, I don't trust anyone as well. But we have one important difference. And that's why I have more success than you do.

- And what's the difference, miss Valentine?.. – He eyed her coolly. Jill gave him back his sunglasses and leveled her face with his, their noses nearly touching.

- I don't let people down so easily as you. – and Jill went out, closing the door behind her. Wesker smirked, putting on his sunglasses. She didn't believe him, not one bit, but they were partners. And for all Wesker knew, Jill Valentine could lie with a face as honest as child's, her expression blank and not changing even a bit. They were partners, and she was alike him, he was alike her. At least they had something in common. Alike, but not quite the same.

And so the technical problem was a practical problem as well. Well, a problem, just a problem, a very big problem – you name it.

Jill Valentine worked for the Umbrella Corporation.

And Albert Wesker was her partner.

Hell of a work, no sweet dreams.

Strictly business and money.

Nothing more.

It could be degrading.

For both.

* * *

Wow, it's alredy 4 chapters! I think my imagination is working good theese days xD Even with the whole crysis thing in the world xD

**Stardust4**, thanx for the reviws! I hope someone else reads my fic though too... )

Hmmm, the idea with the band came to my head unexpectedly. Tell me if it's good or not, ok?..


	5. Sweet Memories

Chapter V.

Jill was sitting on the bed in her apartment, drinking coffee and reading the last report from Birkin about his research of the T-Virus. She remembered that soon Umbrella is going to experiment with the Virus, and she only didn't exactly the current date. And she didn't know what the experiment would be like. She supposed Wesker knew, but he wasn't intent on telling her. Well, then it was his problem, after all. She had her own plans, and he had his own. But Wesker could burn in hell, for all she cared. He really irritated her lately – and she didn't have a clue why Umbrella paired them together.

_4 months ago._

- Wesker, Valentine! Birkin is calling. He says it's important. – John said to them, walking in their cabinet. Wesker glared darkly at Jill and she glared back, great annoyance could be seen in her eyes. – He says he has orders from the front office.

- Why the front office won't tell us about it themselves then?.. I'm not the last person in the corporation. – asked Wesker coolly, not even minding to say something about Jill.

They both were researchers, they both worked on the same project, but they more liked to handle things with the gun in their hands, and not with the words. Wesker was cold and calculating, and Jill was fast and furious. A deadly mix for their rivals. Without each other, though, they weren't so effective, even if they didn't want to accept this. In fact they didn't like each other much, and that could be perfectly seen.

John shrugged.

- I don't know. Maybe they were going to order you something rather unpleasant and didn't want you both to shoot them in your anger?.. You know that the two of you are perfect when you act together?.. Like the one whole invincible and ultimate mechanism…

Wesker and Jill both growled, and John grinned, knowing perfectly about their dislike for each other.

- So, he's waiting for you on the fourth floor. Well, I got to go, I have plenty of work to do. - . said John and vanished, leaving the stoic sent of medicaments and chemicals after him.

Jill and Wesker both took a step to the door, and both stopped near the exit, giving each other frozen smiles.

- After you. – said Jill in such a polite tone that you could nearly imagine venom dripping from her words.

- Ladies first. – Wesker even bowed his head a little and made an inviting gesture with his hand, but you could feel the same venom in his words as well.

- Oh no, I insist. Respect the older ones, as the saying tells us, so you go first. – Jill smiled with such a smile that if smiles could kill, Wesker would be already painfully struggling in agony.

- But the best for the younger ones, so I think I'll let you be the first to exit. It won't offend me a bit, really.

You could only guess for how much time they could find the runarounds, but fortunately John's head with spiky blond hair appeared in the doorway, and the scientist shouted to them:

- Come on you too! The order was urgent! I had to tell you for like half an hour ago already!

- And what took you so long?.. – Jill stared at him with such an expression that John thought that in her mind he was already doomed, killed, shot in the head, tortured and etc., etc., etc. He felt somewhat uncomfortable and suddenly was very anxious about how many bullets were still left in her 'Deserted Eagle" *a standard weapon for a mercenary and/or a military* and how fast could she extract it from the holster.

- Oh, I had a very important business to take care of. – he said proudly. Wesker winced his eyebrows in a sarcastic manner Jill was used to see every day.

- And what's this business?.. – Wesker asked him calmly. Too calmly, and that was dangerous for John, really. If he said now something stupid…

Jill stepped to Wesker and stood in such a way that if Wesker was going to hit John, he'd have to face her first. She could be everything, bad or not, but Jill hated when Wesker tortured innocent people. She could stare with a blank face at the real life massacre *and she often saw such things because of her job*, but when Wesker was about to kill *mentally or physically, doesn't matter* someone who she was sure was innocent, she could protect that someone with such furiosity, that her "partner" would only smirk but give in. Well, not every time, but nearly every time. He wasn't the soft one and he always acted like he wanted to, but sometimes his coolness was just useless against her actions. Jill was a strategic, Wesker was a tactic.

John smiled somewhat shyly and said:

- Oh, I had to call my girlfriend, Ada. Have you heard about her already? Did I tell you? I really love her, she's so beautiful, and smart, and…

- Shut up! – Both Wesker and Jill yelled at him and stormed out of the office, knocking John off his feet. John would have fallen if he didn't grasp the edge of the table in at the last moment.

- What's it with people this days?.. Why are they so hysterical? Was it something I said?.. – John said aloud to his new friend table, as no one appeared to be left in the office. The table remained silent, maybe deciding not to start the conversation with the loveable scientist. The table was higher than John, if not physically, then mentally. The poor scientist felt himself miserable and took his cell phone, searching for the one most precious number in his contact list, mumbling "Ada, my honey Ada, I need to talk to you so much my love". Poor cell phone squeaked but obeyed and showed him the right number. John pressed the "call" button.

- I think it would be pretty funny to hook up Wesker and Jill. Maybe they won't be so hysterical then. – he said to the table again. If the table agreed with him, he again decided to keep his thoughts for his wooden self. He wasn't quite the talkative type of a guy, really.

* * *

Wesker and Jill rushed to Birkin's lab, both trying to come first. They always competed with each other – they didn't know why, it just… Felt natural. And the point was that they didn't do it for fun, but it wasn't pure rivalry either. It was… Something in between. They weren't friend, and they certainly weren't enemies. They didn't know what they were to each other. They just were a man and a woman. Nothing more, nothing less. At least it was their greatest illusion about themselves before that day.

They rushed in so quickly, that accidentally they dropped some flask with an unknown substance in it, and it split on the floor, steaming a little. Wesker and Jill looked at each other murderously and them stood still, two steps from each other, their faces wearing the same neutral expressions.

Immediately quite a young man with messy blond hair and blue crystal eyes. He was wearing a long white lab coat and his expression got furious when he saw the broken flask. He murderously eyed the two and stated:

- I'm not interested who, I'm interested how. – he said surprisingly calmly, eyeing the vial somewhat melancholically. – It stood practically on the middle of the table.

Wesker fixed his sunglasses and said coolly:

- Jill was running into the laboratory while I was walking here calmly as usual and she dropped the flask. Well, she's such a mess, you know her.

Jill looked at Wesker with such anger that Birkin felt himself uncomfortable.

- Me!? Sorry, mister, but it was you who were running here like from the devil himself! Will, he ran so fast that he dropped the flask, and I was about to yell at him for that when you came in and I thought you'd do all the job for me! – she blinked innocently and smiled sweetly. Wesker turned to her.

- What!? Miss Valentine, I suggest you to stop lying and apologize immediately!

- Lying!? Who's lying here, Wesker!? Look in the mirror sometimes and you'll see the true liar!

- I assume you don't look at the mirror at all the way you talk.

- Wesker you son-of-a…

- SHUT THE FUCK UP!

Wesker and Jill silenced, turning to Birkin who had such a look that somebody just hit him in the guts. Jill looked shocked, and Wesker probably was as shocked as Jill, though his expression was unreadable because of the sunglasses. Birkin never sweared, it was the first time ever he said such an unpleasant word.

Birkin was already used to Jill's and Wesker's dislike for each other, and usually he just yawned when they started the word fight again, but his patience was already at the highest setting. They really got him today, and know he was angry, really angry. If he had a gun, he would have shot them both already by now.

- Wesker, Valentine – I'm already tired of you! You're always fighting like a cat and a dog, and it's unbearable! I don't fucking care who fucking dropped this fucking flask, I just have the fucking orders from the fucking front office! And they are final and you can do nothing about them! Wesker, from now on Valentine will be your partner and will assist you working for S.T.A.R.S. as well. You need better cover.

Silence filled the office and after several seconds passed William hid himself in the cabinet, Jill rushing to the door of his hideout and shouting threats and promising to kill him, the front office and etc. Birkin held the door from his side, yelling back that the front office knew her reaction and that's why they ordered him to tell them that by himself.

- The cabinet doors our superiors have are not as strong as these one's. – Birkin shouted, somewhat proud. – Anyway, you can do nothing about it, Jill. And you Wesker too. I mean about the order. And about the door as well.

Wesker was standing calmly, surprisingly quiet – he crossed his hands on his chest and eyed the door and Jill, that tried to open it.

- Wesker, help me, friend, please! Take that psycho away! Help! I'm innocent! I have a wife I have to please and a daughter I have to bring up!

Wesker grinned.

- Of course William, I'll help you. Jill, go away.

Jill groaned something under her breath, swearing, not even flinching to go away. Wesker stepped closer and moved her away, suddenly pushing much harder on the door and opening it. William screamed and literally smashed into the wall.

- Everything for my fair lady. - he bowed a little, offering her to enter the door. Jill thanked him and rushed into the cabinet, closing the door. Wesker could hear screams and thumping sounds, as if Jill took something big and flat to hit Birkin.

- I'm… Ow!!..I'm innocent!...Stop it!... I don't have anything to… Ow!...Do with this!!!...Jill, stop it, go away, he-help meeee! – he could hear Birkin scream and knock furiously at the door. Wesker pretended he was deaf, blind and speechless.

Five minutes past away and Jill stormed out, holding a folder in her hands, all red, flushed, hair messy and breathing heavily.

- Is he dead?.. – Wesker arched his brows cooly.

- Literally. – Jill rolled her eyes, pushing a lock of hair out of her eyes. Wesker half-grinned.

- Always at your service, _partner. – _he shook her hand. Jill smiled sweetly and asked casually, as if nothing happened:

- So when do I start my new job?..

* * *

Jill grinned to herself. This memory was very dear to her, she liked it very much. Although it reminded her of a kindergarten, nevertheless… Wesker acted like a real ladies man. Self proclaimed ladies man as a matter of a fact.

William didn't talk to her for a very long time after that – nearly two days. Annette was anxious he got ill (it was just not like Birkin – not to talk to his friends for such a long time) and tried to give him a medicine, but he got angry and ran away from home. But he got back after ten minutes and told Annette about his fight with Jill, silently hoping that she would pity him. Instead Annette laughed like mad and felt from her chair, scared Sherry and promised to tell this story to the whole corporation so that it would become a legend.

Jill sighted and took the photo album from the shelf opening the first page.

And the first page had a photo on it with a description: "_Sherry's fourth birthday_".

Jill chuckled, looking on the picture that showed herself, standing with the glass of champagne, smiling. Next to her stood Wesker with the wine bottle, grinning mischievously, his sunglasses off, showing his blue with yellow specks eyes. He looked triumphant and like… Not himself. She recalled that they were quite drunk when William took that photo. Wesker didn't drink, as a matter of a fact, but Jill secretly shoved him a glass of wine instead of the glass of water. It was a bet – William said she couldn't get Wesker drunk, and she said that she could.

Jill grinned, remembering Birkin's look when he had to give her $100. She chuckled and continued to look through the album.

The second photo made her heart skip two beats.

Her heart always did that when she saw this picture.

The photo of Wesker hugging her, circling his right arm around her waist and his left arm resting on her shoulder.

Jill closed her eyes, recalling the sensation.

The memories rushed at her immediately.

She smiled.

God how Wesker was drunk.


End file.
